name aloud in the streets of Blois, mademoiselle,' I
retorted, 'you are like enough to be taken whither you will not care to
go! As for M. de Rosny, I have told you that he is not here. He has gone
to his seat at Mantes.'

'Then take me to him!'

'At this hour of the night?' I said drily. 'It is two days' journey from
here.'

'Then I will go to an inn,' she replied sullenly.

'You have heard that there is no room in the inns' I rejoined with what
patience I could. 'And to go from inn to inn at this hour might lead us
into trouble. I can assure you that I am as much taken aback by M. de
Rosny's absence as you are. For the present, we are close to my mother's
lodging, and--'

'I know nothing of your mother!' she exclaimed passionately, her voice
raised. 'You have enticed me hither by false pretences, sir, and I will
endure it no longer. I will--'

'What you will do, I do not know then, mademoiselle,' I replied, quite
at my wits' end; for what with the rain and the darkness, the unknown
streets--in which our tarrying might at any moment collect a crowd--and
this stubborn girl's opposition, I knew not whither to turn. 'For my
part I can suggest nothing else. It does not become me to speak of my
mother,' I continued, 'or I might say that even Mademoiselle de la Vire
need not be ashamed to accept the hospitality of Madame de Bonne. Nor
are my mother's circumstances,' I added proudly, 'though narrow, so mean
as to deprive her of the privileges of her birth.'

My last words appeared to make some impression upon my companion. She
turned and spoke to her woman, who replied in a low voice, tossing her
head the while and glaring at me in speechless indignation. Had there
been anything else for it, they would doubtless have flouted my offer
still; but apparently Fanchette could suggest nothing, and presently
mademoiselle, with a sullen air, bade me lead on.

Taking this for permission, the lanky youth in the black soutane, who
had remained at my bridle throughout the discussion, now listening
and now staring, nodded and resumed his way; and I followed. After
proceeding a little more than fifty yards he stopped before a
mean-looking doorway, flanked by grated windows, and fronted by a lofty
wall which I took to be the back of some nobleman's garden. The street
at this point was unlighted, and little better than an alley; nor was
the appearance of the house, which was narrow and ill-looking, though
lofty, calculated, as far